


Legacy

by captaindominoes



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaindominoes/pseuds/captaindominoes
Summary: "The Kaminoans had taken from them the ability to want more, to build a future and a family and a legacy. To steal even half a lifetime of normalcy.Bound by duty, bound by DNA. It was all they would ever be."General Aayla Secura is pregnant. That fact is undeniable. What Commander Bly is going to do about it is a whole other beast, and one that will take the help of the GAR and the Jedi Order to overcome.
Relationships: Aayla Secura & Quinlan Vos, CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura
Comments: 45
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea latched onto me and simply wouldn't let go, so here I am adding another multi-chapter fic to my long list of WIPs. I've been wanting to dive deeper in Bly and Aayla's potential relationship, so I'm excited to see where this will take me!

There was a rumor floating around the GAR. 

No one knew where it had come from. They could not affirm its validity, but neither could they contest it. Whether the rumor was founded in truth or fiction, the clones of the Grand Army of the Republic wouldn’t have thought to question something so banal and trivial to their daily existence. It was simply a fact, a detail to ruminate on for no more than five minutes before shrugging one’s shoulders and moving on. They couldn’t do anything about it if they wanted to. This was as much a part of them as their carefully sculpted genetic code, from their height and eye color right down to the shape of their identical noses. 

Clones of Jango Fett were notoriously sterile, and it was that tiny fact coded into their DNA which made them that much less human in the eyes of the galaxy. 

Not that any of the clones were thinking about settling down with a family anytime soon. Bred for war, that was the entirety of their existence. But there were a few, in the dark silence of the barracks late at night or the loneliness of an empty ‘fresher, that dared to think beyond their mere survival of this clone war. Those that did found themselves sobered by the reality that their fates had been decided for them before they had even been decanted. The Kaminoans had taken from them the ability to want more, to build a future and a family and a legacy. To steal even half a lifetime of normalcy. 

Bound by duty, bound by DNA. It was all they would ever be. 

No clone was more acutely aware of their duty than those in command. They had all wrestled with their individuality at one time or another, but had always come back to one undeniable truth: they were clones. Their purpose was this clone war, these men under their command, and the victory of the Republic. Of course, there were whispers of indiscretion, the kind that couldn’t be spoken of unless one wanted to face a court-martial. 

_Commander Cody spent an awful long time in General Kenobi’s quarters last night. Captain Rex and General Skywalker seem… close. Rumor’s out that Commander Fox has a secret lover, haven’t you heard?_

_Everybody knows about Commander Bly’s moon-sized crush on General Secura._

The thing about rumors in the GAR was that there was always some truth to them. Sometimes, nothing more than a morsel; other times, a mountain. That was what was so tricky about the truth. It was as inevitable as the galaxy’s end, and it could never be shrouded in secrecy for long. 

***

The spark that ignited between Clone Commander Bly and Jedi General Aayla Secura was not an accident, nor was the first time they fell into bed together. In the beginning, intimacy came in the form of hands brushing under the table, chaste kisses shared between briefings, and late nights just holding each other and savoring the company of another living person. Starved of touch and affection, they sought each other like two beacons of light destined to meet. The galaxy seemed so wide and so deep and so lonely when one spent this much time amongst the stars. The need to feel grounded was natural. 

Bly had never had a home. Kamino was so distant, so white and sterile and blank. It spoke of rigid conformity and emotionless duty. It had little patience for yearning young men with aching hearts. When he fell into bed with his General, Bly understood for the first time why he had been so drawn to her from the beginning. Aayla was security, and comfort, and love. She was home. 

Aayla, for her part, had never been so tenderly held and caressed before she met Bly. They would spend hours in each other’s embrace, and he would cradle her in his arms like she was something precious. Aayla was used to filling the role of Jedi Knight, respected General, and fierce warrior. She had forgotten what it felt like just to be Aayla. Bly reminded her of who she was and who she truly wanted to be. 

Physical intimacy was a natural extension of their time together. The stress relief alone was worth it to find time together even after a long day of meetings or a seemingly endless campaign. Now, three months into this _thing_ they had between them, Aayla and Bly fell into familiar habits. Their much-needed leave was coming up soon, and there was no better time to indulge themselves. 

“Bly.” Aayla giggled softly in his ear as he stretched out, slow and languid, covering her body with his own. “You’re heavy.”

Tiny, loving kisses peppered Aayla’s neck. Bly’s barely-there stubble tickled her skin as his lips moved down, caressing her from her jaw all the way to her collarbone. He was as gentle as could be, as both of them were acutely aware that leaving behind marks or bruises could spell more trouble than it was worth. “Just enjoying the moment.”

“Come here.” Aayla shifted, turning so Bly had no choice but to lay down next to her, and then gathered his lax body into her arms. “That’s better, hm?”

“Mm. Yes,” Bly murmured. Aayla watched as his eyes fluttered closed and his head came to rest on her bare shoulder. This was her favorite part of intimacy with Bly. There was always a moment right after, when they both floated on a high of endorphins, that they could give themselves over completely to each other. There was no one else they could be this vulnerable around. 

Aayla’s hand drifted down Bly’s back, absentmindedly following the golden lines that ran from his neck down to the top of his ass. A pleased rumble left Bly’s chest, so she did it again, scratching her fingernails against his sensitive skin. He was so beautiful like this. Her strong, sensible commander, reduced to putty underneath her hands. It was intoxicating. 

“Are you feeling better now?” Aayla asked, ducking down to press their foreheads together. “You seemed so tense last I saw you.”

“Don’t worry. I think you’ve fixed that.” Bly exhaled into the warmth between them. When he opened his eyes again, there she was, and he couldn’t help but soften. “I’m going to miss this.”

Aayla’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Miss it when? The campaign is over. We’ve earned an entire week of leave.”

“Exactly,” Bly replied. “A week of leave means a week away from each other. You’ll stay at the Jedi Temple, and I’ll most likely spend it with my brothers.” 

“Are you not excited to see them?” Aayla asked, amused, and Bly huffed out a laugh. 

“Of course I am. It’s been months since I’ve seen Fox. I just got word that the end of our leave will overlap with Wolffe’s, and Cody is on Coruscant for business. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been able to spend time with all of my brothers like this.”

“But…”

“But.” Bly’s eyes traveled down, drinking in the sight of her, before they flicked up to meet her gaze. “Part of me thinks once we reach Coruscant, our duty will outweigh whatever it is we’ve built between us and we’ll lose this.”

“Oh, Bly.” Aayla’s hand came up to cup Bly’s cheek, and he gratefully melted into her touch. “I’ve wrestled with the same thoughts and feelings you have, but I’ve always come back to one thing. I care deeply about you. Time apart won’t change that. I know it won’t change how you feel about me either.”

Bly turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. “No. It won’t. That’s what scares me the most.”

At any given moment, their future was uncertain. Neither of them were under any delusion that their survival could be attributed to anything but luck. Yet, it was not dying that Bly feared the most. It was surviving this war and living without Aayla, without the woman he had come to call home, and the only person who made his meager life seem worthwhile. 

“I can’t say what will happen in the future,” Aayla said honestly. “But I can say that I will always cherish our moments together. Even if they are limited.”

A small, bitter smile twitched at the corners of Bly’s mouth. “Make no promises in war. I understand.”

“This is how it must be.” Aayla pressed a sweet kiss to Bly’s lips before settling down with her head on their shared pillow. “I’d rather spend this time appreciating what we have than lamenting an uncertain future.”

“Right.” Bly turned onto his back and let his head fall against the pillow. When he looked past her, all he could see was stars through the porthole. Glittering, lovely nothingness. The same feeling expanded in his chest until he couldn’t bear it anymore, and then he looked away. 

“It’ll be nice to see my brothers again.”

“Of course. I’ll visit with Master Kenobi and Master Windu, I’m sure. And if the 104th is on Coruscant, I’d quite like to see Master Koon again; it’s been ages…”

The port call on Coruscant was a welcome reprieve for the men of the 327th Star Corps. As eager as they were to begin their leave with too many rounds of ale to count and partying raucous enough to get at least a dozen of them arrested, there was still plenty to do before the transports could take them down. Bly headed the leave organization efforts himself, partly to take the strain off his men, and partly to ensure it was done properly. Leave schedules were drawn up, transport checks were conducted, and all the men were read the list of leave rules and regulations for the hundredth time. Bly was just as tired of giving this speech as they were of hearing it. He’d be fishing a few of them out of Coruscant’s gutters in a few days’ time anyway, so he hardly saw the use. He could only hope he got to them before the Corrie boys did. He hated the way those smug bastards would smirk when he came to retrieve the sorrowful, hungover bunch. The smug bastard Bly called his batchmate was always the worst. 

When the hour came to send the boys off, Bly waited in the hangar to watch each transport depart. It wasn’t until the last ship was in the air that he requested his own transport down, intending to visit Fox at the barracks before they headed out for drinks. Cody would join them later. It was supposed to be a quiet night for the three of them to catch up, though with all the partying that would be going on around them, it was likely they would have more than a few pints of ale. 

With one foot on the ship, Bly paused. A strange feeling had suddenly overtaken him. Willing that thought away, he shook his head to clear it and boarded. He was being silly. There was no reason to be worried. It wasn’t until they were in the air that Bly glanced to the side and realized the pit in his stomach was due to the odd loneliness of the empty Aayla-shaped space at his right hand side. That same emptiness had been eating at him since their night together, and it would soon overwhelm him if he didn’t find some way to shake it off. 

Mentally, Bly revised his plans for the night as the transport shook beneath his feet and rose into the air. He could rope Fox into doing shots with him if Cody would too. This was a night to forget. If Bly was still coherent by the end of it, he wouldn’t be satisfied. 

Aayla stepped foot into the hangar just a few minutes after Bly’s departure. She had intended to see him off, but all that remained of him was a spec in the sky. A curt nod masked her disappointment from the transport pilot as she boarded her own ship. 

“Thank you, Gunner. Take me to the Jedi Temple, please.” 

As soon as the Temple came into view, Aayla let out a small breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding at all. This place had always been a sanctuary for her, a haven of wisdom and peace and safety. Between the walls of the Temple, Aayla could take the time to collect herself and sort through the complicated swirl of emotions that had plagued her lately. Mentally, she had been feeling confused and out of sorts for several weeks, but the stress had taken its toll on her physically as well. Nausea, fatigue, and headaches had become more and more frequent as the campaign dragged on. Aayla would gratefully accept rest now. 

Aayla’s first stop was her quarters. On her way there, she eagerly greeted several Knights, Padawans, and Masters she knew by name. Even the ones she didn’t know personally received a pleasant smile and a hearty hello. It was all she could offer for now. Aayla was feeling too queasy to stop and chat, most likely due to the rather bumpy ride Gunner had subjected her to, so she continued on her way until she spotted a very familiar figure. This one she simply couldn’t pass by. 

“Master Vos!” 

“Aayla?” Quinlan’s face morphed into delighted shock as she hurried over, and Aayla was quickly swept up into a crushing hug. “I had no idea you’d be on Coruscant.” 

“Me? How about you?” Aayla squeezed Quinlan just as tightly. His Force signature was so familiar and comforting that she relaxed against him almost instantly. The feeling of absolute safety that always accompanied Quinlan was gladly welcomed. It had been many rotations since Aayla had felt truly safe. “When’s the last time you’ve spent more than a few days on Coruscant?” 

“Too long,” Quinlan said with a rueful sigh. “I can hardly believe it. Let me look at you.” He pulled back, keeping her at an arm’s length. “Jedi General, huh? It still shocks me to think of you that way. I’ve heard you’ve become quite the strategist. Smart enough to rival Kenobi, eh?” 

“Maybe not as intelligent as Master Kenobi.” Aayla patted his arm affectionately. “Are you here for work, or do you have a moment to catch up?” 

“For you? Of course I do.” Quinlan led them over to a nearby bench and sat with her. “I am here for work, but I have a few minutes to spend with my favorite Padawan.” 

Aayla rolled her eyes at Quinlan’s wink. “You mean your former Padawan.” 

Quinlan waved his hand dismissively. “Once my Padawan, always my Padawan. Besides, you’d think Skywalker was still Kenobi’s Padawan by the way they argue. It’s hard to change that dynamic. Skywalker follows him around like a lost youngling.” 

“With how much you’re talking about Kenobi, I’m beginning to think you might have a crush on him,” Aayla teased, to which Quinlan scoffed. 

“On Kenobi? As if! The man hates my guts. Look, there was one time when we were Padawans, but that’s it…” 

“Alright, I’ve heard enough of your Padawan stories to last a lifetime.” Aayla nudged him playfully. “I want to hear about what you’ve been up to.”

“I’m afraid I’ll bore you with the lack of details,” Quinlan said. “Most of what I do is classified.”

“The life of a spy. Of course.” 

“Ah, well. I’ve gotten used to it.” Quinlan’s gaze lowered to his lap. The lines around his eyes and the shadows on his face informed Aayla there was too much he couldn’t say. She didn’t need the Force to tell her he was feeling the same strain of the war that they all were. Aayla gripped his hands tightly, drawing him closer, until he had no choice but to look at her again. 

“You’ve been taking care of yourself, haven’t you?”

Quinlan’s bright smile made a reappearance, though tinged slightly with sadness this time. “Hey, who’s the Master here? I’m just fine. You’re the one who’s out on the front lines. I should be concerned for you.”

“No need for concern,” Aayla promised him, but a slight wince betrayed her true state of mind. “Sorry, I’ve been feeling a bit fatigued lately.”

“Are you sick?” Quinlan’s hand came up to feel her forehead automatically. Aayla suddenly felt like a youngling again, being cared for by her Master when she had the sniffles or an upset stomach. No matter how small the twinge or ache, Quinlan had been there to hold her hand and sit by her bedside while she rested. He had been only a young man then, doing what he could to soothe her pain. Now, they had both been aged by years and war. She would take what comfort he could give to ease that burden. 

Aayla stayed still as Quinlan finished checking her over. “I’m not sure. I’ve felt strange for a few weeks. Tired, mostly, and a bit nauseous. It’s just the war catching up to me, I’m sure.”

Quinlan’s hand dropped from her forehead, but he still looked worried. “You don’t feel warm. Still, it might be worth a visit to the Temple medical center.”

“I wouldn’t want to take up their resources--” Aayla started, but was interrupted with a look from Quinlan. 

“If it’s nothing, they’ll tell you it’s nothing. You might just need rest. But if this has been going on for a few weeks, it could be something worth taking a look at.”

“I suppose you’re right. I haven’t had time to see the clone medics. I’ve just been so busy…” Aayla shook her head. “I should stop making excuses.”

“Let me accompany you, at least.” Quinlan stood with her and looped an arm around her shoulders. “You really don’t look well.”

Aayla’s arm curled around her stomach. A sudden bout of nausea had overcome her, and she was forced to lean against Quinlan as they walked. “It may be some kind of flu I picked up.” Her thoughts drifted to Bly, who she had spent several intimate nights with during their journey back to Coruscant. Hopefully she hadn’t gotten him sick as well. 

“Maybe. Or like you said, it’s the stress of the war. We’re all under plenty of pressure,” Quinlan said. He held her more firmly when he felt Aayla waver. “Almost there. It’s not far.”

“Thank you.” Aayla straightened up when they arrived in front of the medical center doors and turned to face Quinlan. “I appreciate your company and your assistance.”

“Always.” Quinlan squeezed Aayla’s hand before pulling away. “Listen, I’m still on Coruscant for a few more days. If you feel up to it, I’d love to see you again before I leave.”

Aayla closed her eyes briefly when Quinlan pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead. “I’ll comm you. Maybe we can take a walk in the Temple garden. I’ve missed spending time there.”

“Of course. I hope you feel better.” With a nod and a little half-wave, Quinlan was off again, and Aayla was left alone standing in front of the medical center.

The doors slid open silently when Aayla approached them. Inside, the medical center was quiet and calm, with few patients aside from the youngling whose arm was being bandaged while a disapproving Master looked on. Though the air was sterile and smelled faintly of medical-grade bacta, it was not off-putting; rather, Aayla felt reassured knowing she could trust the Jedi healers. She sought out the one closest to the door. 

“Excuse me.”

The medic was a human female with bright eyes and a soft smile. Though she was young, she had a matronly look to her that put Aayla at ease. She waved Aayla over and greeted her warmly before picking up a datapad on the nearby desk. 

“My name is Cailyn. How can I assist you?”

“Cailyn, I’m Knight Secura. Aayla. I’m sorry, one moment.” Aayla was forced to pause when she was hit with another wave of sickening nausea, but there was no need to worry. Cailyn was already guiding her to lie down on a biobed, which Aayla gratefully did. Her stomach was still rolling as Cailyn drew the privacy curtain around them. 

“I can guess you’re here because you’re feeling unwell.”

“Yes, I am. It comes and goes in waves,” Aayla told Cailyn, who was now hovering by her side and typing away at her datapad. 

“Can you describe your symptoms to me?” Cailyn asked. 

Aayla’s stomach had finally begun to settle, and she was able to take a deep, steady breath. “It started with the headaches and fatigue a few weeks ago. The nausea is just awful in the mornings when I first wake up, though I usually feel a bit better after I’ve had my morning tea. I’m worried I’ve picked up some kind of flu. It doesn’t seem to be going away.” 

“Not to worry, Knight Secura. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Cailyn’s calm, airy voice was soothing, though Aayla’s nerves were still a bit frazzled. Try as she might, she couldn't help her thoughts from drifting back to Bly. She hadn’t wanted to worry him by exposing her symptoms, so she had chosen to remain silent. Guilt crawled up her spine at the thought that her carelessness could harm him. 

“Try to relax and stay still.” 

Aayla hadn’t even realized how tense she was until Cailyn called her out. One by one, each of her muscles began to release, leaving Aayla feeling loose but oddly jittery. The biobed hummed beneath her fingertips, having been turned on by Cailyn, who was now monitoring the screen near Aayla’s head. 

“The scan won’t take more than a minute. It should be able to detect any abnormalities. I can take a blood sample after this to confirm the diagnosis.”

Aayla’s chest rose and fell with each of her slow, deliberate breaths as she kept still for the scan. The steady beeping of the monitor next to her gave her something to focus on so she wouldn’t feel anxious waiting for the results. The seconds ticked down in relative silence, save for the beeping and the soft taps of Cailyn working away at her datapad, until Aayla noticed that the healer had gone absolutely still beside her. Aayla started to turn her head, but remembering Cailyn’s instructions, managed to stay where she was. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Perfectly fine-- erm, yes, absolutely fine,” Cailyn said in a rush. The tapping of her fingers resumed at a higher intensity than it had been before. “Just double-checking the results. Maybe we should go ahead and take that blood sample, just in case.”

Dread pooled in the pit of Aayla’s stomach, and with the earlier nausea still lingering, it was a sickening combination. The scan was long over, so she sat up and peered at the monitor in an attempt to make sense of the lines of data and information. 

“I’d like to know what the results said. If I’m ill…” Aayla bit back her concerns about a particular Commander and course-corrected. “If I’m ill and it’s contagious, then I need to go into quarantine immediately and all the troops in my battalion must be monitored.”

Cailyn’s pursed lips were drawn into a frown as her eyes glanced between her monitor and her datapad. Finally, she seemed to admit defeat to the results and turned towards Aayla. “I can assure you that nothing you have is contagious.”

“That is good news.” Aayla hunched over in relief. Bly was safe, then-- and the rest of her men, of course. “It’s stress-related, then? Perhaps I just need a good rest.”

“Not quite.” Cailyn had yet to break eye contact with Aayla, and she was starting to become unnerved. “I don’t quite know how to deliver this information to you, so I suppose I should just come out with it. The scans indicate that you’re pregnant, Knight Secura. About six weeks along.”

The silence between them was deafening. There was no hint of humor on Cailyn’s face, nor was she laughing or smiling. Her hands were folded solemnly in her lap. Her eyes were concerned, but sincere, and Aayla found that it was herself that let out the soft, incredulous huff in the wake of such incredible news. 

“I’m sorry. That’s just not possible. The scan must be incorrect.”

“I’ll take a blood sample to confirm,” Cailyn said. “But the scan does seem to be correct.” She handed her datapad over to Aayla, who took it with stiff fingers and stared in disbelief. 

“It can’t be. It’s just not possible,” Aayla murmured numbly. She had gotten a slew of shocking information in her time as a Jedi and a General, but none that left her so cold and utterly demoralized. “I haven’t been with…” 

Hot shame rose to Aayla’s cheeks as memories of her encounters with Bly immediately contradicted her statement. It seemed completely irrelevant to her current dilemma considering that Bly was a clone, and it was well-known that clones were sterile. Of course they were. Aayla had never heard of a clone fathering a child-- then again, she had never heard of a clone that was allowed to pursue a true romantic relationship, nor one that had a partner beyond brief sexual release. That was all she and Bly had shared. It was just a sexual reprieve. Of course she cared about him, of course she acknowledged that their relationship was more than strictly professional, but--

They had never bothered to use protection. 

Clones of Jango Fett were sterile. 

But she’d never really seen the evidence of that, had she?

The datapad clattered to the floor. Both of Aayla’s hands rose to cover her face. She could feel the weight of Cailyn’s comforting hand rest on her shoulder, but she was too much in shock to acknowledge it. Cailyn’s gentle voice was in her ear: “I’ll grab a blood sample and then we’ll consider our options, alright?” Aayla was too deep into her own impropriety to respond. 

All she could see in her mind’s eye was Bly’s face; all she could feel was his lips on hers and his hands caressing her body, his skin as flushed and heated as her own. All she had sought was the companionship of another person with whom she felt she could be solely herself without the pressure of Knight Secura, or General Secura, or any number of roles she played during this wretched war. All she wanted was to feel alive in the midst of so much death and horror. All she wanted was soft, sweet Bly, with his shy smile and warm eyes, to remind her what it felt like to be vulnerable with another person. Now, all of that had been cruelly ripped away from her, and Aayla sat still on the biobed, alone and absolutely terrified. 

It was already clear to Aayla what the blood sample would say. As she sat rooted to her spot, mind racing with the possibilities, she began to form a plan. She was nothing if not a brilliant strategist, after all. No matter what happened, she refused to relinquish her position in this war. The stakes were too high, and her post was too important. The Republic needed her, the GAR needed her, the men of the 327th Star Corps needed her. 

Commander Bly needed her. 

Aayla wasn’t about to give up on any of them. 


	2. Chapter 2

“What the hell is this place, Fox?” 

“You said you wanted to drink. This is the place to do it.” 

The bar Fox had brought him to was lackluster compared to Bly’s expectations. His boots stuck to the floor as he reluctantly set foot inside, surveying the unfamiliar terrain. It was dark, for one, and not in the way that suggested partying or dancing would be occurring. The dingy, low tables were littered with dusty mugs of some kind of suspicious liquid. Bly had never seen liquor that color. The bar’s occupants were even sketchier than its decor, though upon inspection, Bly realized most of the patrons were GAR-affiliated. It was a friendly bar, then; not a clone bar, but at least they wouldn’t get spat on in lieu of being served. 

“What happened to 79s?” Bly lamented as he slid onto a sticky barstool. “Are you too good for that place now?” 

Fox raised an eyebrow. “You think the men want to see a couple of high-ranking commanders at the bar when they’re trying to party and let loose? I know what happens at 79s, and in fact, I’d like to know less. I don’t want to be the one who ruins their good time. Soon as the men spot the head of the Coruscant Guard, they’re going to wish they never came out at all.” 

“Alright, I see your point.” Bly exhaled and leaned his elbows on the bar. “Guess we’re not shinies anymore.” 

“Like we ever were.” Fox lifted a hand to call the bartender over. “What’re you having?” 

“I’ll start with just an ale. Gonna be moving into something stronger later, that's for sure.”

Fox ordered the same before turning his attention to his brother’s woes. “You going to tell me what’s got you moping around when you’re supposed to be on leave?”

Bly mulled over a few different answers before he settled on one that was appropriate, even if it wasn’t the heart of his issues. “We lost a lot of good men over this campaign.” 

“The burden of command.” Fox nodded at the bartender as he slid mugs of ale towards them. “They die. You live.” 

“And to think people call you calloused, Fox.” Bly smirked over the rim of his mug as he gratefully drank it down. 

“They call me a lot of things.” Fox side-eyed Bly. “I don’t think that’s really what you’re upset about.” 

“No?” Bly asked casually, taking another long sip. 

“No.” Fox watched, unimpressed, as Bly’s now-empty mug slammed back down on the counter. “You wouldn’t have come out if that were true. You would’ve stayed with the injured, or tended to the cremation of the bodies, or better yet, holed up in your room and drank yourself into a coma. That’s not what this is.” 

“Isn’t it?” Bly flagged down the bartender for a refill. “What’s it matter anyway?” 

Fox’s hand shot out to grab Bly’s wrist before he could pick up his second mug of ale. The irritated look Bly shot him was overshadowed by Fox’s glare. 

“Don’t be an idiot. You’re deflecting. That’s my usual technique, not yours.”

“I have a lot on my mind lately.” Bly pulled his hand out of Fox’s slack grip and slumped forward. “I’m not being dishonest. I just can’t talk about it.” 

“Oh? Why, are you having some illicit affair?” Fox’s voice was laced with amusement, but it immediately switched to questioning when Bly’s body went stiff. “What--”

“Hey, boys, getting started without me?”

A hand came down to thump Bly on the back. Beside him, Cody slid into the empty stool, and he and Fox shared a nod in greeting across the bar. 

“I think Bly got started without  _ me.” _ Fox’s first glass was only half empty, while Bly was already making great strides on his second. “Glad you could make it, Cody.”

The tired droop of Cody’s shoulders betrayed his fatigue, but he put on a smile and ordered from the bartender anyway. “General Kenobi’s the reason I’m on Coruscant. We’ve been looking into a group of Seperatist operatives that have supposedly established themselves here on Coruscant. So far, we’ve turned up nothing, but we’re still working.”

“Thire briefed me on that,” Fox said. “You’ve got some of my boys working with you, yeah?”

“What can I say?” Cody shrugged and sipped his drink. Unlike his brothers, he’d opted for something a little stronger and vaguely fruity. “They know the city better than anyone."

Fox smirked. “Damn straight.”

“What about you, Bly? You’re on leave?” Cody asked. He quirked an eyebrow as he took in Bly’s melancholy state. “You sure don’t look like it.”

“Look, it’s been a long few months.” Bly took in a breath and slowly shook his head to clear it. “I’d rather not focus on that right now.”

Bly wasn’t technically lying to his brothers, or at least, he’d like to think he wasn’t. Perhaps Fox had been right to question his excuses, but that didn’t mean Bly had to take the bait. The petty part of him wanted to throw around his own suspicions about Fox’s illicit affairs. He had certainly heard plenty of gossip. Instead, he switched tactics, not wanting to risk bringing the heat back on himself. 

“How’s Rex?”

“Good as he can be. I saw him a few weeks ago ago before General Kenobi and I left for Coruscant,” Cody responded. “His boys are headed to Ringo Vinda last I heard.”

“Yeah? I don’t envy him,” Bly said with a snort. “I heard that planet’s miserable. Mostly swamps and blood-sucking parasites the size of your hand.” He made a fist for emphasis. “It’s gonna be a tough one."

“You can say that again.” Cody raised his glass and nodded solemnly at Bly and Fox. “To our brother.”

“To our brother,” they echoed, and then they all drank.

With the formalities out of the way, Bly began to loosen up. The alcohol contributed, of course, but the familiarity of being around his brothers was what truly brought Bly out of his shell. As the night progressed, the bar slowly began to fill with clone officers and friendly natborns until the atmosphere turned from stagnant to upbeat. It was nearly impossible for Bly to keep track of how much he was drinking even if he wanted to. After two, he’d switched to something a little harder than ale, and eventually he stopped trying to identify the liquid in the shot glasses his brothers were handing him. Fox had bought them, so why refuse? Bly came here to drink, and to forget. He wasn’t doing so well on the second goal, even with the alcohol buzzing in his system. 

A pretty Twi’lek waitress caught Bly’s eye between his second and third shot of a mysterious glowing blue liquid Cody had shoved into his hands. She watched him with a small smile, hand cocked on her hip, as Bly tipped his head back and let the liquor pour down his throat. It was going down like water by this point. That alone should’ve been a warning signal, but the night had caught up with Bly and he wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. 

The only thing Bly was thinking about was Aayla, and how much her bright, smooth skin looked like the waitress’s. The way they wrapped their lek were similar too; leathery bands, winding around intricately, tight and uniform. The waitress’s smile was warm and infectious, and Bly found himself smiling back before he could think about what he was doing. Her and Aayla looked similar enough that they could be sisters, Bly thought, though that easily could’ve been the alcohol talking. It was hard to know how much he was projecting and how much was real and tangible. 

But that had been their whole relationship, hadn’t it? Bly had thought he and Aayla had a future. He thought that was what she wanted, too, and he was almost brave enough to say it. It was almost laughable, how caught up Bly had been in his own happiness at finally having the one thing that had always been denied to him. It was no wonder clones were forbidden from seeking any kind of meaningful relationship. It would do nothing but blind them, make them forget about their responsibilities, and trick them into thinking there was anything more important than duty. Aayla had handed him a harsh but necessary truth.  _ Make no promises in war. _ That was one axiom that would stay with Bly no matter what. 

The dizziness that usually accompanied a stomach full of liquor began to catch up to Bly near the end of the night. Cody and Fox were still chatting away, swapping drunken stories with another Corrie Commander Bly couldn’t remember the name of. Churning low in his guts told Bly that he really shouldn’t have accepted that last drink, but Thorn had cajoled him into trying some kind of spicy rum, and-- that was his name after all, Thorn; Bly couldn’t believe he had forgotten it, but the headache pounding away at his ears had seemingly wiped away all rational thought. 

Distantly, Bly realized that the table full of his brothers had gone quiet, and they were all looking at him with matching concerned expressions. Bly didn’t think he looked that sick. Patting at his cheeks, Bly tried to bring himself back around and sober up. Predictably, it didn’t work. 

“Hey, idiot,” Bly heard Fox yell as he leaned over to talk into his ear. It was hard to hear with all the people and the music cranked up. “Check your comm.”

Bly blinked, not quite processing what he was saying. “What?”

“Check your comm! It’s been going off for five minutes.”

“What? Oh-- shit!” Bly’s face was the perfect mixture of drunken surprise and embarrassment, and Fox laughed at him before returning to his conversation with Thorn and Cody. 

Clumsy fingers attempted to fish out the hand-held comm unit, though it took several tries for Bly to get it out. Not wanting to further disturb his brothers, Bly stumbled away from the table to a quiet corner to check his messages. The bar was only slightly spinning. Bly could at least get his bearings enough to read the first lines of holo text that came up when Bly turned on the beeping receiver. 

MISSED MESSAGES FROM: AAYLA SECURA

MARKED: PERSONAL

A nauseating chill ran down Bly’s spine when he read those words. They were more sobering than Wolffe’s infamous hangover cure. Aayla had been comming him for the better part of an hour, on and off, with her most recent slew of messages sent in the last few minutes. Curiously enough, although the number of messages Aayla had sent implied some kind of emergency, Aayla had opted to use Bly’s personal channel instead of the ‘urgent’ or ‘emergency’ channels. If it was truly serious, there was no way Aayla would have used his personal channel. That was only for decrypting private messages. 

Maybe she felt bad for dismissing him so harshly the night before. Maybe she wanted to meet up, have a drink, or more. Maybe she just wanted to talk. Bly didn’t know, and in the state he was in, he didn’t care. This night was about him and Cody and Fox. Aayla knew that. If she had something to say, she could say it to him in the morning. Then he’d at least be able to gather the brain cells scattered by liquor to give her a coherent response. 

Bly turned off his comm and slipped it back into his pocket. 

Making his way back to the table was proving more difficult than Bly had initially considered with the crowds and his current lack of dexterity. He tripped twice over two different chairs, running into a Corrie captain who scowled at him, and he hastily apologized. This night was quickly coming to a disastrous and abrupt end. 

Black spots danced at the edges of Bly’s vision as he recovered from his brief run-in with the captain. He truly hoped he was not about to pass out in the middle of this bar, though it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him. He could be covered in vomit. Just as that thought occurred to him, Bly became aware of his rolling stomach again, and he groaned aloud when the floor pitched beneath him. 

A steady hand grabbed Bly’s bicep a moment before catastrophe. He was upright a second later, though his stomach was still bubbling dangerously. A voice laced with concern sounded right by his ear, so light and soft and sweet, and for one moment Bly just let himself sway with it in the music. 

“Are you feeling alright, honey?”

Bly’s entire body lurched as he jerked himself out of the Twi’lek waitress’s grip. Eyes wide, he stammered out a half-assed apology as he backed away, bumping into tables and patrons alike as he went. The kind waitress could only stare in shock at Bly’s fumbling. 

“Alright, brother, that’s enough for you tonight.” 

Bly suddenly found himself squished between two solid forces, who held him up almost solely through their own strength. He made a pathetic picture, sagging between them as they half-marched, half-dragged him out, until fresh air finally assaulted them and Bly’s stomach lost the battle against Thorn’s spicy rum. 

“Not your best look, Bly,” Fox remarked dryly. Bly only continued to dry heave in response. Once they had determined he was mostly done vomiting, Cody called a taxi, and they all piled in with Bly’s sad form wedged between them. 

The only words the cab driver spoke to them were “You pay triple if he pukes in my cab”. Luckily, it was a short ride, and Bly managed not to get sick again. Fox tipped the driver handsomely anyway. It wasn’t until they had actually stepped foot inside the building and ridden the elevator up that Bly, still supported by his brothers, actually took in his surroundings and realized where they were. 

“Fox? What the hell? Take me back to my barracks.” 

“Can’t do that, brother.” Fox shrugged Bly’s arm off his shoulder and approached a keypad mounted into the wall, which he used to enter a code. “You’ll choke on your own vomit. Come on.” 

Fox’s quarters were bigger than any Cody or Bly were allotted aboard a ship, though still tiny by most people’s standards. It held a single bunk, barely large enough for Fox himself, with a desk wedged into the corner and a refresher the size of a shoebox just behind a door. As soon as they were inside, Fox opened up the tiny closet attached to his ‘fresher and pulled out a few extra blankets. 

“Lay him on the floor.” 

Bly let out an undignified squawk as Cody unceremoniously dumped him onto the threadbare rug by Fox’s bed. His boots were removed, as was his jacket. Bly would’ve protested at this infantilizing treatment if he actually had the coordination to do that all himself. 

A blanket and extra pillow smacked Bly in the face when Fox tossed them down. After a bit of adjustment, a decently comfortable bed was made on the floor, while Fox collapsed into his own bunk to pass out. 

Expecting Cody to leave for his own barracks, where he could sleep in an actual bunk, Bly simply rolled over and tried to get comfortable on Fox’s floor. Unfortunately for Bly, Cody wasn’t ready to leave him just yet. 

“Hey, Bly.” 

Bly waited a beat to see if Cody would believe he was asleep. The blanket lifted, allowing Cody to slip underneath, and a moment later Bly felt Cody’s warmth pressed up against his back. Bly’s memory conjured up the remnants of a better time, when Bly and Cody had laid just like this in their crib together at three standard years, knowing nothing but the comfort of each other as they figured out the insane world they were thrust into so suddenly. Bly longed for those simpler times now. The older they got, the more vast and complicated the galaxy was. 

The tickle of Cody’s sour breath on the back of his neck made Bly squirm, but Cody wasn’t doing it to mess with him. A gentle squeeze to his arm calmed Bly, who was starting to feel overwhelmed with the events of the day. 

“When you’re ready to talk, let me know.” 

With that, Cody rolled over, and the space between them felt that much colder as Bly laid awake thinking about his transgressions. 

***

After the fifth time Aayla tried Bly’s comm with no response, she decided to give up. 

It was late, but Aayla had taken some time to gather her thoughts before attempting to contact Bly. Some small part of her felt relieved that he didn’t respond. Even now, after hours of meditation and reaching out into the Force for an answer, Aayla still felt utterly lost. It wasn’t real to her yet, when she could still reach down and feel the flatness of her stomach and rationalize it all away. She didn’t feel any different. Yet, she knew that she was, that the events of the day had irreparably changed her. It was terrifying. And Aayla had no one to guide her, not even the Force, which stayed stubbornly distant no matter how hard she tried to reach out. 

Aayla had never felt so alone than she did in that moment. The meditation room was secluded and threadbare save for the thin mat she was sitting on, the perfect environment to clear one’s mind, but Aayla’s was too tumultuous to calm down with any amount of contemplation. It was late, and Aayla was feeling tired and dreadfully isolated. She wasn’t even sure she wanted Bly at this point. All she wanted was to go to sleep and hope that in the morning, this terrible, complicated affair would be nothing more than a strange dream at the edge of her consciousness. 

Standing, Aayla took a moment to stretch out her stiff limbs. There was no telling how long she had been kneeling there, though her knees told her it had been the better part of several hours. Hopefully sleep would provide her the clarity she was lacking. 

Had Aayla not been so distracted by her own thoughts and worries, she wouldn’t have been caught so off guard when she opened the door to the meditation room to find she wasn’t alone. Another figure nearly ran head-first into her as she exited the room, and Aayla let out a startled gasp. His Force signature-- tranquil, amicable, comforting-- washed over her, calming her racing heart. 

“Master Kenobi, forgive me.”

“It’s quite alright, Aayla.” Obi-Wan steadied her with a hand, catching his own balance at the same time. His brow creased in worry when he observed her state of agitation. “You seem disturbed.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the great negotiator. Tactful when he wanted to be, but blunt when needed. Aayla gave him an acquiescent smile. 

“I am a bit distracted. I was hoping meditation would clear my mind, but I’m afraid I feel even more confused now.”

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. “Although silent reflection often helps me in times of stress, sometimes I must resort to other methods to find the clarity I require.”

Aayla lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her turmoil. She could protect her emotions in the Force, but hiding her physical tells wasn’t so easy. “And what would you do if you were faced with a problem with no solution, but only consequences you weren’t sure you were ready to bear?”

Obi-Wan took a moment to seriously ponder her question, his hand poised at the tip of his chin. “I might talk to someone I trusted. It can help to get another point of view.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Aayla admitted. “It’s all become so complicated, and I’m afraid I’ve let not just myself down, but everyone around me. I feel lost.”

“Let me accompany you back to your quarters,” Obi-Wan suggested. “If, on the way there, you feel compelled to speak what’s on your mind, I would welcome it. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” His gentle, reassuring presence was enough to convince Aayla. It couldn’t hurt to hear another opinion, especially from someone she respected and trusted as much as Obi-Wan.

“Actually, I would appreciate your advice,” Aayla said. “If it’s not too much trouble.” 

“I can provide that as well. Or at least, I can try.” Obi-Wan fell into step beside Aayla as they made their way back to the far corner of the Temple that housed their private rooms. “What’s troubling you?”

Aayla silently gathered her scattered thoughts, and when she felt she could be honest without giving away all of her secrets, she spoke. 

“I know attachments are forbidden for a reason. Not that relationships are, but selfish, malicious attachments, the kind that distract one from duty and lead one down the path to the dark side. Even so, I…” Aayla let out a puff of air. “I find myself once again at war with my emotions.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head as he listened intently. “You’re talking about Quinlan?”

“Yes, and no,” Aayla said. “You know that leaving him was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. In many ways, he was, and still is, a father figure for me. But I had to let him go in the end. I was stunting my own growth by remaining anchored to him.”

“The bond between Master and student is incredibly strong. You aren’t the only one that’s struggled with that, Aayla. I was forced to leave my Master under very different circumstances.” A flash of old, deep pain flitted over Obi-Wan’s face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. “I longed for the connection we once had. I felt very lost and very alone, and in some ways, abandoned. But as you said, finding our independence separate from our Masters is a crucial part of our growth as Jedi. That was one principle Anakin never had trouble with, actually.”

Aayla let out a light chuckle. “I’ve heard stories. That isn’t what I’m having trouble with, though. I feel secure in my bond with Quinlan now. This is a different kind of attachment.”

“Ah.” The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched upwards. “I think I know the one.”

“Yes.” Aayla paused as they passed another Jedi Master in the hall, who Obi-Wan greeted briefly. She waited until he was out of earshot to continue. “I fear I’ve made a mistake that will jeopardize my position as a Jedi and a General.”

“You don’t feel fit to carry out your command?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Aayla hesitated. “You could put it that way, yes. I’m afraid I will no longer be able to retain my command because of the decisions I’ve made.”

“I have seen nothing to suggest you would not be capable of carrying out your duties,” Obi-Wan said. “Why do you believe this attachment would prevent you from doing so?”

“Because…” Aayla’s steps slowed when her room came into view. Her feet carried her to her door, situated near the beginning of the hallway, where she turned to fully face Obi-Wan. “I don’t think I can let this one go.”

If Obi-Wan was shocked by her admission, he did not show it. In fact, he looked rather calm for a man who now held Aayla’s second most scandalous secret in the palm of his hand, whereas Aayla was sure her shame and fear was thick in the Force. 

“Attachments aren’t inherently evil, Aayla,” Obi-Wan began. He had the air of a man who was choosing his words carefully. “They are an important part of our development. My bond with Anakin is still quite strong. I also have a bond with those I grew up with and trained with, such as Quinlan and Siri. And of course, I share mentorships with some of the Masters, including Master Windu and Master Yoda. Becoming attached to those around us is natural. If you’re worried that the relationship you have fostered is inappropriate, I would consider the motivations behind it. The reason we are asked to evaluate our connections with others is because jealousy, hatred, and selfishness often accompany passion. It is a dangerous trap to fall into, and one that can lead to the dark side of the Force. But that doesn’t mean we, as Jedi, are immune to intense feelings of fondness and love for others. That also doesn’t mean that those feelings are wrong, or you should feel guilty about them.”

“Somehow I sense you speak from experience,” Aayla mused, and Obi-Wan laughed. 

“As I once said to Anakin, the Order would be a sad group indeed if it was made up only of those invulnerable to love.”

“I appreciate your advice nonetheless.” Aayla bowed her head respectfully. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. Of course, I must consider what is best not just for myself, but for the Order.”

“A wise answer.” Obi-Wan stepped back as if to leave her, but wavered, instead leaning in to offer one last piece of advice. “If I may add… The Order will be stronger as a whole if you are secure in yourself and your bonds with others. That is the most important factor. Only you will know what’s right. Seek counsel, but trust your instincts. They will guide you.” 

“Thank you.” 

Aayla watched Obi-Wan walk down the hall, and it was only when he had disappeared around the corner that she entered her own room. Though uncertainty still plagued her, along with guilt over telling Obi-Wan half-truths, she felt lighter than she had since she had received the harrowing news of her pregnancy. There was no more denying her and Bly’s relationship had developed far beyond a fling they could easily divorce themselves from. Now, they would both have to deal with not just the physical consequences of their relations, but the emotional fallout as well. There was nothing left to do but talk to Bly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am pulling from Legends for some of this... what can I say, I appreciate the extra context it gives. Also, there's a hint hidden in this chapter to sprinkle in some foreshadowing... I wonder if anyone picked up on it?


	3. Chapter 3

Everything was too damn loud. 

A soft groan forced its way out of Bly’s cracked lips as awareness tugged at the edges of his consciousness. He nearly choked on the weight of his tongue, heavy in his parched mouth as he tried to force it to work so he could tell whoever was yelling to shut the hell up. As he began to rouse, Bly became aware that the person in question was, in fact, speaking in a normal register, but each syllable was a thunderclap to him. Bly wrenched his dry eyes open to glare at the man hovering over him. His head throbbing in time with his heart. 

“Oh good, you’re up,” the blurry figure deadpanned. “You look like shit.” 

“Fox, dammit.” Bly clumsily batted Fox’s hand away when it extended to offer him a canteen full of water. “Stop talking so damn loud.” 

“I’m not. You’re just hungover.” Fox’s armor creaked as he crouched down. “I don’t have time to babysit you for the rest of the day. Are you getting up, or do I need to call someone to haul you down to the medical bay for a hydration drip?” 

“I’m up, I’m up,” Bly grumbled. He made a valiant effort to roll onto his back and sit up, but the moment he became vertical, his world began to dip and slide sideways. Only Fox’s steadying hand kept him from collapsing back onto the floor.

That reassuring presence didn’t last long. Within the minute, Fox was pulling Bly to his feet and holding him as he swayed with his rolling stomach. It was just a few steps to Fox’s bunk. Bly dropped down onto it with a grateful sigh and accepted the canteen from Fox when it was thrust into his face again.

While Bly sipped on water that tasted vaguely of the electrolyte powder they used out in the field during long missions, Fox finished strapping on his armor and snatched up his bucket from his desk. His disapproving stare cut through the fog hanging over Bly. 

“You’d think a Commander would have something to do before midday.” 

“Leave, remember?” Bly lifted his canteen in a mock toast and threw his head back for another long drink. “I don’t answer to anyone here.” 

Fox let out a derisive snort as he shoved his bucket onto his head. “Might want to check your messages before you become too comfortable with that, brother. You can stay here until you’re well enough to walk. If you get sick, clean it up. And make sure you’re out by the time I get back tonight. Not all of us have the luxury of leave.”

Before Bly’s sluggish mind could think of a good comeback, the door was already sliding shut behind Fox. 

Bly had half a mind to lay down in Fox’s bunk and go back to sleep, but his brother’s comment about checking his messages had piqued his interest. He remembered very little after he started taking shots of that nasty tequila Cody had offered him. His stomach certainly did. 

There were enough flashes of memory for Bly to piece together what had happened. The drinking had been interspersed with chatting with brothers he hadn’t seen in a long time. Thorn had been there, one of Fox’s right hand men, along with a few brothers Bly hadn’t been expecting. Keeli, Stone, Thire, Hound… he could barely conjure their faces, but he remembered them yelling in his ear, pounding him on the back, and contributing to his drunkenness. 

And then there was her. Guilt climbed up Bly’s throat as that memory taunted him. The waitress whose name he couldn’t even remember, who had been so kind to him, and who was both too much and not enough of a distraction from the one who was really on his mind. Bly didn’t need to look at the handheld comm still tucked away in his belt to know what it held. Insecurity had reared its ugly head, fueled by bad decisions and alcohol. It wasn’t fair to her, and it wasn’t fair to him. He could only hope that Aayla could accept his apology if he came to her honestly, as he should’ve in the beginning. 

Before Bly could think about what he would say to Aayla, he had to scrape together his sorry self into something presentable. Fox had been generous enough to offer him use of his space. Bly had to assume that extended to his refresher, unless Fox wanted to further shame the GAR by letting his disheveled, stale-smelling, hungover brother stumble through the halls in search of the communal barracks. 

It took another half hour of resting and sipping electrolyte water for Bly to feel well enough to stand. Though it was small, Fox’s private ‘fresher was a blessing. Bly could take as much time as he needed far away from the prying eyes of nosy brothers. Just to spite Fox for his earlier comments, Bly took liberal use of his water ration and some scented soap that had clearly been a gift. That was what he deserved for implying Bly didn’t work just as hard as he did. 

By the time he exited the shower, Bly was already feeling more like himself. At least clones’ resistance to fatigue and physical stress made recovering from a hangover marginally less miserable. As for his clothes, Fox’s civvies would have to do until Bly could get back to his own barracks and fetch his armor. His outfit from the night before smelled like, and was hastily deposited in, the garbage. Fox would forgive him. Eventually. 

As Bly stepped out of Fox’s quarters, he spared half a thought for Cody, who had been noticeably absent when he woke up. It was likely that General Kenobi had called him back to work before the sun was even up. Bly didn’t envy his brother. Besides the grueling work Cody had to put in as Marshal Commander of the 7th Sky Corps, Bly wouldn’t trade his position for Cody’s rank or reputation. Maybe his point of view was colored by the person with whom he was lucky enough to work with by day and sleep beside at night, but that didn’t matter to Bly. It was enough for him. 

A small squad of speeders awaited Bly outside the Coruscant Guard barracks. The Jedi Temple was near enough that it could be seen with the naked eye from the platform where he was standing, but far away enough that the Jedi wouldn’t have spared them a thought. A few of the Corrie boys recognized him as he strode across the docking platform and manned his own speeder, but they paid him no mind. Most of them would be headed to one of the various government buildings in this sector for patrol duty, or the detention center, or even the lower levels. Bly was reminded of one of Thorn’s dark jokes as he kicked off and pointed his speeder in the direction of the Temple. 

_ Only the lucky ones get sent to the lower levels. If they’re really lucky, they won’t come back.  _

The journey to the Temple was brief; not quite long enough for Bly to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say to Aayla that would fix all of this. The truth was that he had been feeling uneasy about their relationship for awhile, and last night had made that very clear. For all that he wanted to be her equal, Bly knew he never could be. Those old feelings of inadequacy and jealousy were clouding his mind. It was all Bly could do not to let them sweep him away. Aayla’s words that night before leave stung deep in his chest in a place Bly hadn’t even known existed, but he couldn’t banish the nagging doubt now that it had made a home. 

_ “I’d rather spend this time appreciating what we have than lamenting an uncertain future.” _

There was no uncertainty. Not for Bly. Not when it came to her. All he could do was hope that he would be strong enough to let her go if she didn’t feel the same way. 

The Temple Guards didn’t question Bly’s excuse of being summoned by his General for why he needed to dock so urgently. It wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the plain truth. Bly had gotten used to those little white lies lately.  _ The General and I are making a late night of it. No, no, we shouldn’t be disturbed. We have strategy to discuss, you know, and the reports from last week are still piling up… _

Walking to Aayla’s quarters while sandwiched between two Temple Guards was uncomfortable at best, considering how unusual it was for a clone to be visiting the Temple without being directly accompanied by their General. Luckily, the guards kept their mouths shut, and so did Bly. Hopefully Aayla wouldn’t turn him away. Even if she was upset, Bly couldn’t imagine that she would. 

One of the guards notified Aayla through her door comm when they arrived. There was a brief moment where Bly thought she might not answer, but then her door was sliding open, and all the worries and apologies that had been balancing on the tip of his tongue flew away. 

As a Jedi, Aayla had spent years learning to master her emotions. Bly had never known her to be particularly expressive, except when they were intimate, but that was passion that was reserved only for him. The relief written into her features betrayed all her years of training. Aayla exhaled his name like a prayer, her hand reaching out for him, but she remembered herself at the last moment. Straightening, she nodded at the guards and stepped aside to let Bly in. 

“Thank you for coming, Commander. We have urgent business to discuss.” 

The guards took their cue, and Bly took his. 

Bly had never seen the inside of Aayla’s quarters before. They were simple and sparse, as was typical of the Jedi. There was a neatly-made bunk in the corner, with a nightstand that held only a single personal item, a diminutive statue that might have been religious. Besides that, Aayla had a small desk wedged next to her closet, and a plain rug on the floor. Her room on board their ship had more personality. Bly wondered what that said about the kind of life they led. 

The nervous tension between them was broken when Aayla took Bly’s hand into hers. It was so small and soft, and that one action was enough to calm the anxious pitter-patter of his heart against his ribcage. 

“I apologize for disturbing you on your night out with your brothers.” 

As was his nature, Bly’s first reaction was to reassure her. “No, not at all. It’s me who should apologize, General--” He bit his tongue. “Aayla. I should be apologizing to you. I was distracted last night. I should’ve answered.” 

“It’s quite alright, Bly. It was probably better that you didn’t.” Bly shot her a quizzical look, but Aayla shook her head dismissively. “I needed some time to think. So much has happened between us that I haven’t had time to process it.” 

There it was. The moment Bly was dreading was quickly approaching, when Aayla would realize this was all a mistake and rebuke him. She must’ve sensed his trepidation, for she squeezed his hand and quickly backtracked. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy with the current state of our relationship. I do care deeply about you. That much hasn’t changed. I don’t think it ever will, truly.” 

Bly allowed a thread of cautious optimism to rise to the surface. She wasn’t rejecting him, not yet-- though there was still time, if that was her true intention. 

“I’m afraid of what this means for us,” Bly confessed. “I didn’t know what to think when this started happening. Of course I admired you, and I enjoyed our time together. But I had no idea…” He swallowed thickly. “I know Jedi aren’t supposed to form attachments. It goes against your beliefs, not to mention it violates the chain of command. Does it matter what we feel, when  _ this _ will always be wrong?” 

Aayla pulled Bly by the hand to sit, and he did so reluctantly, still loosely clutching her despite everything in him that said he should push her away. 

“It doesn’t feel wrong to me.” Aayla’s eyes searched Bly’s face, looking for any hint of disagreement, but there was none. “Being with you has only ever brought me happiness, and peace, and comfort. I know what the Order says, but I also know my feelings. Maybe our relationship was once something that I could let go when the time came. Not anymore, Bly.” She moved a fraction of an inch closer until their thighs were touching, and he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. “I need to know your true feelings. I don’t want you to say what you think I want to hear, or what you think you should say. We need to be honest with each other, here, now, before things go any further--”

“I love you,” Bly blurted out. His cheeks were hot under his golden tattoos, and they only grew warmer when he realized Aayla wasn’t pulling back out of shock; she was drawing nearer out of joy, until she was almost in his lap and their lips were just inches apart. 

“I love you too, Bly.” 

It was the most natural thing in the world for Bly to kiss her, then-- it was quite possibly the only thing he could do in the moment, and Aayla responded eagerly to him, her hands grasping his shoulders like she needed him to breathe. 

They barely managed to pull apart to gasp for air, several long moments later. Bly’s breath puffed out against her lips. “I’m sorry for not trusting you. I wanted to protect your feelings, and mine. I didn’t want to force anything that wasn’t there. I didn’t want to assume.”

“No, Bly, I’m the one who was misguided.” Aayla stole another kiss, which sidetracked them for a good several seconds before she pulled back. “Two nights ago, I wasn’t sure what lay ahead for us. I had no idea your feelings were this strong. I never wanted you to think I didn’t desire a future with you. I want that, if you’ll have me.” 

“If I’ll have you?” Bly’s voice cracked with emotion at the end. “Aayla, I-- You’re so incredible, and kind, and strong, and gorgeous.” A mischievous grin, the kind that Aayla had come to love, tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’d be a stupid man to say no to that, especially being who I am.”

“Who you are…” Aayla punctuated her point with a kiss, and then another, and one after every pause just to make sure he got the point, “is the wonderful, handsome, intelligent man that I want to be with. I know exactly who you are. That’s why I chose you.” 

Had Bly been a stronger man, he might’ve taken that opportunity to slow down and talk with Aayla about their relationship. What they were doing was as taboo as it could get, especially when the heat began to build between them. Bly found himself unable to separate from her. He was being swallowed whole by the fondness and weakness for her that had been growing since the first time he stumbled over his name introducing himself to her.

That was the amazing thing about their relationship, though. Bly didn’t have to be the strong one, not when he had Aayla to be his rock. And it turned out Aayla was weak for him too. 

The hallowed stillness of the Temple rested over them as they fell into bed together. They had carved out this space for themselves, in this moment, where they could lay themselves bare and say with their bodies what they couldn’t possibly speak aloud. Making love to Aayla in her room at the Temple was like their first time all over again. It was sweet, it was tender; it was filled with laughter and chaste kisses and the rediscovery of what they meant to each other. Outside the room, time marched by at its even pace, but for Bly and Aayla, it stretched into an infinity where only they and their passion existed. 

After, Bly lay beside Aayla with his head pillowed on her soft stomach. He had been too caught up in the excitement of their reciprocated feelings to think about the logistical hurdles of their relationship. Loving Aayla could never be wrong, not to Bly, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be consequences for their relationship. He could no longer ignore the creeping doubt.

“Aayla.” Bly tilted his head up to press a brief kiss to her neck, pulling her out of her reverie. “There’s something I still need to talk to you about.” A guilty expression flashed over Aayla’s face, and Bly paused. “Is everything alright?” 

“Actually, Bly, I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Aayla said, her voice low and regretful. “This will change things between us, and I wanted to know your feelings before I told you.” 

Bly sat up and propped himself up on an elbow, letting the sheet covering them drift down to his waist. “Whatever it is, we’ll work through it. I’m sure you have your doubts. I do too. And I don’t blame you. We can’t change who we are, and that makes things more complicated for us.” 

Aayla’s hand came up to cup Bly’s cheek tenderly. “I wish it was that simple, love.” 

Before she could elaborate on whatever was weighing on her mind, Bly was startled by the shrill beeping of her door chime. He froze, his eyes the size of droid poppers, as Aayla vaulted herself over him and out of bed to fumble for her clothes. 

“Who-- who is it?” Aayla called. She did her best to keep the panic out of her voice, but was only mildly successful. 

“Hey, it’s me!” a familiar voice called through the door. Aayla internally groaned as both relief and annoyance washed over her. 

“Master Vos. I apologize; I’m indisposed at the moment.” 

“I just wanted to check on you.” Aayla was too busy pulling her shirt over her lekku to respond, and Quinlan’s voice increased with worry the longer she stayed silent. “Are you alright? How was your visit to the medical center?” 

Aayla didn’t have time to address the look of alarm on Bly’s face. She shoved on a pair of shorts long enough to cover her modesty, gestured at Bly to stay silent, and walked quickly to the door. 

“I feel fine. Thank you for your concern. I’ve been resting and meditating today to clear my mind.” 

“Sure, I understand,” Quinlan said. “Well, maybe we could talk while taking a walk in the Temple gardens like you suggested yesterday.” He sounded so earnest that Aayla almost felt bad rejecting him. 

“I don’t think I feel up for that. Maybe later today.” 

“I thought you said you felt fine?” Quinlan pressed the door release and huffed when he discovered it was locked. “I’d feel a lot better if I could see you.” 

Aayla took a quick glance behind her. Silent communication passed between her and Bly, and he found himself wrapped up in her sheet in the only corner adjacent to the door that guaranteed Quinlan would not see him from the hallway. 

“Quinlan.” Aayla plastered on a smile when the door slid open to reveal her former Master, who looked both concerned and wary. “I assure you, I’m perfectly fine.” 

“You don’t sound perfectly fine. You sound like you’re being held hostage.” Quinlan tried to poke his head into her room, but Aayla placed a hand on his chest and swiftly blocked his entrance. 

“I promise I would tell you if something was the matter. Now if you could just--”

“Hold on.” Quinlan squinted at her. “Why are you acting so strange? You’ve never--” He suddenly balked when he took in what she was wearing, and his face morphed into the perfect picture of shocked realization as the pieces fell into place. “Holy-- okay. Okay. Wow, I’m sorry, I’ll come back. That’s, uh. Okay.” 

“Quinlan, no,” Aayla pleaded with growing horror, “it’s not… like that, is really not.” 

“No, no.” Quinlan shook his head. His eyes remained trained on the ground. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I mean, you’re an adult. I shouldn’t have tried to barge in.”

Aayla was ready to wither away in embarrassment. The only thing making the situation worse was Bly, still in the corner, who was oscillating between terrified and amused. Her desperate need to convince Quinlan that it was not, in fact, what it looked like kept her glued at the door, digging her own grave deeper one shovelful at a time. 

“I’ve been meditating. That’s all. I’ve been alone all morning.” 

“Aayla, I don’t know how to break this to you…” Quinlan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know that’s not your shirt.” 

Aayla didn’t have to look down to know. Bly’s dark, baggy shirt was hanging off her frame, so long that it covered her shorts. Her bare legs were even more damning than the clothing itself. With her dignity at the lowest it could possibly go, Aayla finally admitted defeat, and Quinlan did what he did best: put on fake bravado to brush aside the awkwardness of the situation. 

“Hey, I should go see what Kenobi’s up to,” Quinlan said a little too loudly. “We’ll catch up later, okay? Okay.” 

Aayla couldn’t close the door to her quarters fast enough. Bly was still huddled in the corner, wrapped in her tangled sheets. Aayla buried her head in her hands and she collapsed onto her bed with a tired sigh. 

“That couldn’t have possibly gone worse.”

Bly eased himself onto the bed next to her. “I don’t think he knew it was me.” 

“He’s a father figure to me. I rather hoped he would never find out I did anything like this, though being who he is…” Aayla laughed softly. “I think he knew.” 

“I’ve never known General Vos to be embarrassed about anything,” Bly offered as solace. “I’m sure you don’t have to worry.” 

“Maybe not…” Aayla trailed off faintly. “Not about that.” 

Bly toyed with the edge of the sheet, folding and refolding it in his hands, as the silence stretched on between them. Aayla didn’t seem keen to break it, so he did so reluctantly. 

“You can tell me whatever it is.” 

Head bowed and shoulders slumped, Aayla nodded along with Bly’s reassurance. She looked strangely vulnerable in a way he had never seen before. It was unnerving, and he felt helpless to comfort her. Anything Bly could say in the moment was empty. Aayla had to find the courage herself to get out what she needed to say. 

“It’s strange… I’ve been pondering this since yesterday, but I still can’t seem to find the words.” Aayla’s hand crept over to Bly’s and he gladly took it, holding it tightly to ground her. 

“It’s okay. It’s just me.” 

“I know.” Aayla allowed a deep breath to fill her chest, and then let it out all at once, steeling her nerves for what was to come. “I’ve been sick lately. I didn’t want to tell you because I assumed it was just stress, and I didn’t want you to worry. Over the past few weeks, I started becoming nauseous and fatigued, and I often had headaches that wouldn’t seem to go away. I just didn’t have the time to address it while we were deployed. But when we got back, I mentioned how I’d been feeling to Quinlan, and he was concerned. I realized how silly it was for me to lecture my men about taking care of themselves when I was making excuses for my own health. So I went to see the Temple healers.” 

Nothing was shocking about her story so far, though Bly worried about the potential severity of her illness. It wasn’t like Aayla to tiptoe around an issue like this. She was a fixer, like him, and if it was a problem that could be solved, she would’ve done it. 

“So what did the healer say?” 

“They did a full body scan. I thought I might’ve picked up some kind of flu while we were planetside a month ago.” Aayla trained her eyes on where their hands joined, strong and sure together, and found the strength to press on. “I’m pregnant, Bly. About six weeks along. It’s been years since I-- well. I haven’t been with anyone else. Just you. So there’s no question.” 

“I… I don’t understand.” The gears were visibly turning in Bly’s head, processing the impossibility of their predicament. “It can’t be. I’m a clone, Aayla, I’m…” He gestured vaguely. “I can’t. I can’t have children; that’s what they always said. That’s what we are. Sterile.”

The same questions had been rolling around in Aayla’s mind since she had received the news. She tried not to take offense to his panic and disbelief, considering she had reacted similarly to Cailyn. This child was more than an unexpected gift; it spelled danger for both of them, Bly especially. 

“Bly.” Aayla covered his hand with her own. “I know what the rumors say. I assumed it to be true as much as you did. But I am pregnant, and I know of only one way that could’ve happened.” 

“You’re saying…” Bly’s eyes fell to her stomach, which was still as flat as it had always been. “That’s my--” His voice broke. “I have a baby? That’s my baby?”

It was difficult to gage what Bly was thinking, considering his near-hysterical emotional state. No matter his reaction, Aayla couldn’t help but feel warm inside at hearing those words. 

“It’s your baby, Bly.”

Overwhelmed, Bly had to turn his face away. He couldn’t speak for several seconds, and when he was able to find his voice, it was heavy with pure emotion. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I just….” A shaky hand came up to press against Bly’s wet eyes. “That’s my baby. I have a baby. That’s… our baby.” He looked up, startled, as if he hadn’t considered that before. “Our baby, Aayla.” 

“Yes, it is.” Aayla brought his hands to her lips. “You’re going to be a father.” 

Aayla laughed when she was suddenly engulfed by two strong, loving arms, holding her tight and rocking her as Bly buried his tear-streaked face in her neck. All of her worry, all of her guilt, and all of her shame melted away the moment he had her in his embrace. In its place was unadulterated joy, the kind that couldn’t be banished by any amount of hurt or fear. 

“You’re so incredible,” Bly mumbled against Aayla’s skin. “I love you so much. I love our baby, too, I love him already.” 

“Him? What if it’s a girl?” Aayla teased, threading her fingers through his buzzed hair so she could soothingly scratch at his skull. “You’ve only ever been around boys.” 

“A girl?” Bly pulled back to look at her contemplatively. “You think it will be?”

“Maybe.” Aayla shrugged. “We don’t know the sex yet. Would you be disappointed if it was?” 

“No, hell no!” Bly exclaimed. “Can I…?” His hands drifted towards her midsection. Obligingly, Aayla laid down, and Bly lifted up her shirt so he could lay his cheek down on her bare stomach.

“There’s a baby in there.” 

“Your baby,” Aayla repeated, which caused a giant, goofy grin to break out across Bly’s face. 

“My baby.” Bly stayed still for a few seconds, his face scrunched up in absolute focus. “How come I can’t feel him yet? Or her? How long does it take to grow a baby, anyway?” 

Aayla bit her lip to stifle a laugh. It was a fair question, and coming from Bly, a completely innocent one. He had never been around a pregnant person before. He himself hadn’t even been born, nor did he have a mother or father. There was much that Bly had yet to experience. 

“The baby is very small right now. Probably not even the size of your finger,” Aayla said. “But they grow quickly. The gestation period for humanoid species is typically about nine months.” 

Bly stared at his hand in wonder. “It grows that much in nine months? Or--” He sucked in a breath. “What if our baby has my screwed-up DNA?” 

“Oh.” Aayla’s lips parted in surprise.“I didn’t consider that. Our baby could grow twice as fast. I’m not sure I could handle that.” 

“I’ll take care of you.” Bly leaned in and kissed down her stomach reverently. “No matter what happens, I’ll take care of you. I won’t abandon you.”

Jedi were supposed to be masters of their emotions, but Aayla found herself with wet eyes nonetheless. “I was so scared when I found out,” she whispered. “I had never felt so alone. I felt like I failed you, and our men, and everyone around me.” 

“I know this might not align with your Jedi values,” Bly said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. Having a family is something I never thought was possible. Now that it might be… I can’t see how something so amazing could be wrong.” 

“Generally, having a family means leaving the Order.” Aayla pursed her lips. “I don’t know if that’s what I want. All I know is that I do love you, and our child, regardless of what the others might say.” 

“You don’t have to decide now.” Bly scooted up the bed to press their foreheads in the most intimate embrace, even more so than when they were in the midst of passion. “I’m scared too. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” 

“No, but we will find a way,” Aayla said firmly. “Even if we need to ask for help.” 

Bly quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Aayla sighed, regretting her words before they came out. It was risky, but no more so than their relationship, or keeping this baby. They had few options. The pregnancy wouldn’t stay a secret forever, not once Aayla’s body began to change. And then there was the matter of the baby itself, which would be arriving in a maximum of seven months. There was no denying that eventually, they would need someone on their side, both to assist them in keeping this quiet and to help them prepare for what was going to happen. It was just a question of who they could trust. Even if it would be painful, Aayla knew the answer.

“Well… I have an idea of who we can ask.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea if this will be updated regularly, honestly, but I hope so.


End file.
